It began with a cry in the early morning—a sharp, pained call that cut through the mist.
Charlisa was at the well, fetching water, when a small girl ran up to her, breathless. "Mae—she's birthing!"
Mae, her neighbor, was a kind-faced woman who often shared fruit with her. Charlisa dropped her bucket and followed the child through the winding paths to Mae's hut.
Inside, Mae lay on a bedding mat of woven reeds and soft moss. Her face was pale, and her moans grew deeper with each contraction.
Charlisa's instincts surged to the surface. She asked for clean cloth, warm water, and herbs she had seen used in pain relief.
To her relief, the tribe had already established some form of hygiene—communal toilets built over a filtered rock-bed system with drainage to prevent contamination. Near Mae's hut, hand-cleaning leaves with natural antiseptic properties were kept in clay jars. She requested extra ash-water for cleaning and had the assistants wash their hands thoroughly.
Charlisa took charge gently but firmly, coaching Mae through her breathing. She crushed a leaf from the numroot vine and tucked it near Mae's head to dull pain.
Hours passed, but finally, with one last push and a long cry, the child arrived—a strong, healthy boy. The hut burst into soft cheers. Charlisa tied off the umbilical cord with sterilized vine fiber and cleaned the baby with cloth dipped in warm water.
The Matriarch arrived just as the sun broke through the trees. She looked down at Charlisa, sweat-covered and smiling. "You've done well, child of two worlds."
Charlisa only nodded, emotions overwhelming her.
Later, as she stepped out into the sun, a few women approached her with shy gratitude. One of them asked about how she handled menstruation in her world.
Charlisa explained how women used cotton cloths, and their versions of care. To her surprise, the women showed her a tree with soft, fibrous pods—used here similarly. The tribe had also crafted washable pads using moss, bark pulp, and plant fibers from the cootl plant—a local variant of cotton.
Charlisa offered tips on drying them safely, avoiding mold, and creating herbal washes that could soothe discomfort.
For the first time, she felt she wasn't just observing or learning—she was contributing. Rooting deeper.
And as the village settled into calm after new life had entered the world, Charlisa felt more than pride.
She felt needed.